According to de
Souza, I drew up a comparison between Sant Sohirobanath and St Francis Xavier
to argue that Sant Sohirobanath served the saffronisation of Goan culture by
the State in violation of constitutionally guaranteed secularism, while suggesting
that the state’s administrative assistance in the exposition of the relics of
St. Francis Xavier was, “well within the bounds of secular ethics.” In reality,
I said no such thing.

My effort was to
distinguish between the manner the state has unilaterally taken it on itself to
pluck the Sant out of relative obscurity, while in the case of the Exposition,
there is a non-statal body that actively organises the event and receives the
state’s support in organising it, post factum. As a student of the manner in
which states across the world deal with the challenge of secularism, I am well
aware of the delicate balance that is involved every time the state steps in to
intervene in religious affairs. As such, my argument was much more cautious than
de Souza makes it out to be.

de Souza suggests
among other things that I was “misusing” the figure of St. Francis Xavier and
crafting an imaginary scenario possibly with the intention of stoking communal
tensions. The truth, however, is that I did not produce the comparison with St.
Xavier out of thin air, but within the very real context of the position of
secularism in India and Goa. Hindu nationalists have systematically raised the cry
of “minority appeasement” in the context of state support of non-Hindu
institutions or events. Their loud clamouring against this support is then used
to justify further patronage to Hindu institutions and events. Perhaps de Souza
would have preferred had I pointed out that the services that the state of Goa
offers to the Exposition is similar to the kind of service that it offers to the
zatras, especially the more important ones, across the state. Indeed, in
retrospect, I realise that I ought to have included these examples as well.

Nevertheless, the
very fact, that I may have needed to also talk about Hindu feasts to justify my
argument and thus make it sound
secular, is illustrative of the burden under which non-Hindu and non-upper
castes persons in this country labour when trying to secure space in the public
sphere. Indeed, whenever minoritised groups raise arguments critical to establishing
an egalitarian system, they are accused of engaging in identitarian politics,
or, as de Souza phrases it, “not more than politics of culture”. It needs to be
pointed out that the so-called identity politics is not merely about identities alone but in fact fundamentally about distributive justice.

Even though de
Souza would have readers believe that I think the state’s association with the Exposition
is “well within the bounds of secular ethics” -- I am not entirely sure that it
is. It was because of my doubts about the nature of this association that I was
so restrained in presenting the Exposition as an example. In very many ways,
the State not only offers assistance to the Catholic ecclesiastical hierarchy
in the organisation of the event, but also uses the event in many ways. In
addition to the symbology of being one of the more significant patrons, the
state government also exploits the Exposition for its value to the tourist
industry, just as it has now begun to milk the bigger Goan temples for their
interest to tourists. To make this argument is not to necessarily or
unilaterally condemn the practice, but to highlight something uncomfortable in
this arrangement. As the work of scholars such as Talal Asad demonstrates, such
discomfort is an integral part of the problem of secularism. Our job is to see
how we can enable the possible resolutions of the dilemmas that inevitably
present themselves in the operation of this imperfect system.

In addition to accusing
me of attempting “to put a wedge that could promote conflict between the Hindu
and the Catholic communities” de Souza also claims that I am trying to “divide
the Hindu community by presenting Sant Sohirobanath as a symbol of high Marathi
culture, and not representative of the Bahujan Samaj.” Once again, he
misunderstands and misrepresents my argument. There are already historical and
contemporary divisions among those who call themselves Hindu. Postcolonial Goan
history is the history of the assertion of the Bahujan samaj in Goa against the
dominance of the Saraswat Brahmins. Further, I was not presenting the Sant as a
symbol of high Marathi culture, but rather pointing to the manner in which the
Sant is being co-opted to aid Saraswat, and brahmanical, hegemony in Goa. I was
trying to draw attention to the point that there is no single strand of Marathi
culture in Goa, but multiple strands. To this extent my aim is to make explore the
varied dimensions of Marathi culture in Goa. Too often this culture is
presented as a monolithic monster that Goans, and especially Catholics in Goa,
should be afraid of. To be sure, crafting monolithic identities of Catholic and
Hindu (as he does) does more to fuel communal tensions. These monolithic
identities occlude the similar interests that bahujan of both faith traditions
and impoverish political imagination.

Having addressed
most of de Souza’s specific comments, it is now time to reflect on the overall
thrust of his article. It is significant that de Souza did not take any
position vis-à-vis the project at the heart of my discussion, viz. the renaming
of the college after Sant Sohirobanath. His silence seems to imply approval of
the project. This position would not be surprising given that de Souza
generally speaks in the voice of the upper-caste secular nationalist. This is a
voice that would prefer that discussions of caste-based oppression not be
spoken about, prefers identities to be national and sees the nation as composed
of monolithic religious groups who are ideally represented by upper-caste members
of that faith tradition. When voices do speak up against the upper-caste Hindu
biases of state governance, Indian secular nationalism dismisses it as identity
politics, just as de Souza does my arguments. This dismissal is effected not
only by Hindu nationalists, but also the dominant elites within these
minoritised groups; the latter fearful that their privileges as representatives
of the faith tradition will be challenged.

With this
understanding of the operation of Indian secularism, de Souza’s position is not
surprising. Learning from the recent past indicates that contemporary Goa needs
to negotiate different ways to secure a secular environment, one that is honest
about the fractures and systemic injustices in our society. Simply sweeping
them under the carpet and celebrating the largely upper-caste bonhomie across
religions alone is not going to work.

We owe a debt of gratitude to Dr. Mesquita for having had the moral
courage and the good sense to point out that prohibition is out of the question
when alcohol is a part of the social rituals among a good portion of the Goan
public. May he live long and prosper.

As relieved as we may be by Misquita's statement, it needs to be
pointed out that basing the decision to not ban the consumption of alcohol on
the basis of its presence in “culture” is not a reassuring fact. Indeed, such a
logic is problematic because it is still very much within the Hindutva realm of
reasoning.

Hindu nationalism is a cultural nationalism. This is to say that it is a nationalism that
privileges culture (as defined by Hindu nationalists) first. All else,
including rights, comes after this definition of culture. The opposition to
prohibiting an act on the basis of culture is to give primacy to culture, not
to rights. Thus, what would happen if there was no culture of social drinking
in Goa? Would it be ok to ban drinking then?

This question is important because it is at the root of determining
the extent of the censorship powers of the State. The question is one of the
extent of the powers of the state to curtail activities of persons, and of the
recognition of right of the individual to choose. If I choose to drink, then
regardless of whether it is a part of our culture or not, I should be able to
drink, and have the right to purchase alcohol for consumption.

Phrasing the question in terms of alcohol, whose consumption is
marred by instances of alcoholism, is not the best way to phrase a question of
rights. Indeed, members of the right often use the most extreme example to make
their case and carry through decisions. If we replaced alcohol with skirts, for
example, we may see the dangers involved in invoking culture as the basis to
allow, or prohibit an activity. If the wearing of skirts were not commonplace
among women in Goa, would it be legitimate to ban the wearing of skirts? Of
course not, because one would then be treading on the rights of women to wear
skirts should they choose to do so. The law is known to place reasonable
restrictions on the rights that citizens enjoy. Should one gravely
inconvenience others provisions already exist to remand persons causing a
nuisance through drunken behaviour. In the presence of this reasonable
restriction the introduction of prohibition does nothing more than allow for
the state to exercise unreasonable authority over the ordinary lives of people.

Problematising
culture as a way to attack or defend culture also helps to make us aware how
institutions that are today crying foul, have been a part of the gradual drift
towards the right. Back in the 1980s, the hierarchy of the Catholic Church in Goa came out strongly against the celebration of Carnaval insisting that it was
not a Catholic celebration. Indeed, it did so more recently, once again when
Parrikar waded into debates on what is or is not appropriate local culture. In
doing so the hierarchy sought to delegitimise Carnaval celebrations. In doing
so they were committing a number of errors that haunt us today and will no doubt haunt us in the future. The hierarchy was effectively suggesting that
only the religious lives of the Catholics in Goa was worthy of respect. The
rest could be dismissed and done away with. They were also setting themselves
up as the determiners of all cultural activities that persons who confess the
Catholic faith engage in. This was, and continue to be a dangerous position. As
much as the Catholic Church has a right to advise its members on the manner of
their comportment, it cannot determine what is, or is not part, of the activity
of Catholics in Goa. While the hierarchy of the Catholic Church in Goa may not
be fond of carnival, it ought to have taken a broader perspective and indicated
that while Carnaval was not a Catholic religious feast, and the hierarchy had
reservations with regard to some of the ways in which it is celebrated, it
would not deny that Carnaval is a significant celebration with historical roots in
Goa, and especially among Catholics in Goa. We live in a complex world and the
only way in which we can prevent institutions, both statal and otherwise, from
becoming autocratic monsters is by paying close attention to the rights of
individuals.

Despite making culture the basis on which he dismissed the
prohibition of alcohol, Mesquita also needs to be congratulated for not making
the social consumption of alcohol a feature of Catholics alone. Almost all
reports indicate that his statement was “Goans drink at wedding and parties.
How can it be banned?” Thus, it was not Catholics drink at social events, but
Goans. This makes sense given that it is
not merely Catholicism that determines whether people drink alcohol socially or
not, since people were fermenting and producing alcohol long before both
Europeans and Christians came to this territory. The European, and possibly
Christian, origins of the consumption of alcohol is just one strand in the
history of alcohol consumption in the territory.

To return to the thrust of my argument, making culture the basis on
which decisions are made will also push us further into the ire of the Hindutva
tiger. Given that it is the non-brahmanical culture of Goa that they see as a
problem, decisions to protect certain social activities on the basis of culture
will work to only strengthen the resolve of these groups to attack the cultural
manifestations of Catholics, and other non-brahmanical groups, in Goa. We need
to turn the tables on the forces of the right (which includes not merely the
forces of Hindutva) and assert that rights are the basis of public policy.

Mesquita's statement may have won us the battle therefore, but will
it win us the war?

About Me

Itinerant mendicant captures two aspects of my life perfectly. My educational formation has seen me traverse various terrains, geographical as well as academic. After a Bachelor's in law from the National Law School of India, I worked for a while in the environmental and developmental sector. After a Master's in the Sociology of Law, I obtained a Doctorate in Anthropology in Lisbon for my study of the citizenship experience of Goan Catholics. I am currently a post-doctoral researcher at the Centre for Research in Anthropology at the University Institute of Lisbon, but continue to shuttle between Lisbon and Goa.
I see myself as a mendicant not only because so many of my voyages have been funded by scholarships and grants but because I will accept almost any offer for sensorial and intellectual stimulation, and thank the donor for it.
This blog operates as an archive of my writings in the popular press.